This Game Is Too Real-Chapter 748: The Fall of Blood Mountain!

"No!!!"

A roar erupted in the blood-scented cave, awakening the blood-soaked Beast King from his furious trance, and he heard the wails permeating the red mist.

Altar!

Those guys had touched the altar!

A cold sweat mixed with plasma slipped from his forehead, and he suddenly realized he had focused his attention on one body for too long!

Having arranged everything, he was too curious about that guy’s facial expression, so he specially selected the most perfect body from his collection to serve as his vessel in the mortal world.

However, it was this arrogance that led to an unanticipated flaw in his plan.

The negative emotions generated by the imperfect vessel rebounded against his spirit, and instead of thinking calmly, he was led by the nose by his anger, becoming a puppet of his emotions.

And it was during this momentary lapse that he had inadvertently allowed those people to reach the vicinity of the Lair.

But now it was too late for regrets, he could only hope that the guy’s two hundred years of cultivation would have some effect.

"...No, my friend, can you hear my voice? Answer me quickly!"

The Beast King forcefully smashed a soldier who had fired at him and used his thunderous roar to drive the others back.

Taking advantage of the slight pause in the relentless attackers, he frantically called out to the Plague Master in his mind while trying to contact the Plague Monks at the altar.

But to his dismay, he couldn’t reach them at all.

They had once sought his help, but their cries for help were drowned out by the clamorous gunfire and roars.

At that moment, a feeble voice drifted into his ears, like the dying whisper of a person lying on a deathbed.

"...Farewell, my friend."

"I enjoyed the two hundred-year journey, but... the world ultimately belongs to the younger generation. I am just too old."

"For over two hundred years, my footprints spanned five light years, yet I never left this mountain. The child had some valid points; perhaps my methods were wrong from the beginning."

"Fortunately, you’re still young... by both human standards and ours."

"May you find that ideal Heaven."

That sentence was like a last will.

The very moment those words fell, the last thread connecting to his sea of consciousness was completely severed, and along with its spirit, it plunged into a bottomless abyss. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

Though it couldn’t affect the already impending "Heaven", he had lost the most important "card" in his hand!

Now, he could only hope for the inherent power of Heaven itself, and that the reinforcements from the Human Emperor were reliable enough.

"Die! All of you, die!"

The Beast King let out a furious roar, totally venting his wrath on the group that stubbornly clung to him, but this very fury made his attacks increasingly flawed.

His right leg was stabbed with the second syringe, and the injected Type B fungus strain extraction liquid completely overwhelmed his ability to recover. Then, an incendiary round hit his right side.

The boiling flames carbonized large patches of his skin, and the intense pain almost made him dissociate from his body.

Stumbling backward, he stepped on a corpse, and his three-meter-tall frame uncontrollably fell backward.

It was the body of "I’ll Die First," and indeed, this guy was the first to lay down among the hundreds of corpses filling the tunnel.

Not missing this fleeting opportunity, the Outlaw Maniac took the syringe tossed by a teammate and pounced forward recklessly, jabbing the needle into the monster’s chest.

Right when the sensation of piercing flesh reached the heel of his hand, the Outlaw Maniac felt a large hand grasp his waist, and then he was lifted off the ground.

"Ah—! Get off, you vermin!"

With a painful roar, the right hand of the Beast King grabbed the human lying on his chest and brutally smashed him against the wall, turning him into a crushed pile of flesh.

At that moment, under the control of the Intelligence System’s "Wake and Trap", a self-exploding drone raced towards him and directly activated the explosion switch.

The explosion’s blast forced him back down just as he was rising, slamming his upper body heavily to the ground.

It happened quickly, Midnight, bringing an umbrella but no knife, swiftly stepped forward, picked up the shotgun dropped by the Outlaw Maniac, and smoothly pressed the massive barrel directly under the chin of the monster.

"Die—"

He pulled the trigger.

The shattered pellets, along with the erupting flames, burst forth, and the head shattered like a watermelon.

His movements didn’t stop; he pressed down the barrel and fired another five shots until the magazine was completely empty.

The body of the Plague Champion was a blur of flesh and blood, with crimson fragments everywhere.

Among those fragments, he even saw that emerald-colored eyeball...

"Is it over...?" he exhaled, collapsing backward to the ground, no longer distinguishing whether the hot flow on his body was blood or sweat.

His right hand touched a slick liquid, he lifted his hand to look and saw nothing but pitch black, then he wryly wiped it on his body.

This game won’t get a license without an "harmony system"...

The entire tunnel was littered with corpses, including Death Legion players, Plague Monks, and Goblins. And in front of him lay that thing, the talking Plague Champion, probably the final boss.

Meanwhile, the red mist permeating the tunnel was also changing slightly.

The rotten smell seemed to vanish, replaced by a familiar scent.

All players knew what that was.

"Xiaoyu must have won."

Laplace looked up, glanced around, and then looked towards Brother Umbrella, sitting deflated on the ground, "What now? Do we continue forward, or should we go back and plant the flag on the mountain’s peak?"

Their task was to conquer the Lair.

In fact, conquering the Lair was essentially the same as conquering the entire Blood Mountain.

Xiaoyu had finally taken control of the lair within the mountain and could soon synthesize new sub-entities to search every dark corner of the mountain, seeking out the hidden Mutants and their captive human survivors.

If there were any left.

"Looks like we’ll just have to walk and see."

Rapidly getting up from the ground, Midnight, with an umbrella but no dagger, reloaded his shotgun; his exhausted expression vanished, replaced by a visage full of vigor.

"... I’ll go see what treasures those Mutants have hidden in the palace, wouldn’t want to miss out."

Laplace’s expression turned slightly peculiar, his gaze drifting as he spoke on the side.

"I think it’s more likely that we’ll encounter mental contamination..."

...

"No, respected Plague Lord, please, don’t leave your children... we can’t be without you."

Sodo, with his bloated body huddled into a mass, sat slumped in front of a large pot, his face etched with despair, even his relentless enthusiasm for soup brewing had waned.

Once, he was revered by countless followers, but now he was alone.

The Plague Monks who used to crowd this place had all died in the battles with humans, and no more frail pups longed for his soup.

The red mist surrounding him was still a dense bloody red, but he could no longer smell the scent of the Plague Lord, and only endless, boundless silence answered his prayers.

His evolution had come to a stop.

No new things would emerge from his pus-filled sores.

He lowered his head like a two-hundred-ton child, staring down at his belly piled on the ground, muttering,

"Why..."

A sigh echoed through the gradually clearing pale red mist.

He lifted his head, looking blankly towards the dense mist, trying to locate the source of the voice.

"...What exactly would satisfy you in your evolution?"

"To consume everything!" Sodo said unhesitatingly, without even a second’s thought.

A long sigh drifted from the mist.

"...Such a thing doesn’t exist, even black holes can’t swallow everything."

What’s a black hole?

Sodo stared ahead, baffled by the meaning of the words but noted the denial in them.

In an instant, his detestable face contorted into a hideous grimace.

"You... nonsense! The great Plague Lord told us his mother could swallow a whole planet! If we keep evolving, one day we might—"

"Maybe."

It seemed the voice no longer wanted to listen to his dreams and casually interrupted him.

"...But if that day ever comes, it would be a catastrophe for the entire universe."

The voice disappeared.

As if it had never been there.

Sodo looked around uneasily, feeling a trace of panic about the sudden silence enveloping him.

Then, brisk footsteps and noise broke the silence within the palace.

The footsteps stopped at the entrance of the palace.

"Damn!"

"That’s a huge toad! Wait... can this thing even be considered a toad?"

"Lucky we came to look, almost missed the real BOSS."

"Guys, get ready to group up!"

"Oh oh oh!"

Although Sodo did not understand what the people were saying, he could tell these were not kind words.

Facing those people with gleaming green eyes, Sodo truly panicked this time...

...

The battle at Blood Mountain had concluded, but the fierce fighting on the wastelands of the Wei Mansion had just escalated.

Supported by the artillery fire from the Iron Heart and Loyalty Airship, the Skeleton Corps armored formation had blasted a bloody path through the encircling sub-entities.

The 37mm rapid-fire cannon continued unleashing its firepower along with the machine guns mounted on Tank No. 2.

Both the Nago-infected casualties and the corpses awakened by Nago turned to dust in front of the fiery steel feathers, and were then crushed under the tracks.

Even so, the puppets controlled by the mycelium did not stop advancing, either converging on the armored divisions entering the wasteland or flooding toward the Wei Mansion military base.

The killed ones would sink into the soil and regrow after a long period.

Just like wild grass flourishing after a spring breeze.

As long as the gray-green haze lingered, as long as the mycelium entrenched in this soil did not die out—

They were endless!

In the sky above the Wei Mansion military base.

The intense crossfire was ongoing, with twenty Cloud Dragonfly Flapping Machines zigzagging through the gray foggy sky, unloading their bullets and rockets.

However, the sheer number of Batwing People dancing in the sky was too vast, and despite being supported by ground anti-air defenses, the three grouped strike teams made up of twenty Cloud Dragonflies struggled to contain them.

Four Thunder fighters stationed at the base urgently took off to assist, the 20mm cannons roared continuously, tracing dazzling streaks across the sky.

Besides that, 100 propeller planes took off from the Steel Heart.

Despite that, the numerical discrepancy between the two sides was still vast, and they weren’t on the same level at all.

Especially since those batwing people did not swarm up to die but dispersed in the vast night sky.

And that wasn’t all.

Their unique manner of movement made their flight path unpredictable. Even though their speed and rate of climb were far inferior to the Alliance’s old propeller planes, hitting them was still quite difficult.

The Alliance had anticipated this. After all, many players had already experienced it during the battle in Brocade River City and had even developed a specialized "Bird-shooting tactic" against these Bird people: fire a volley and then flee instantly.

Though the maneuverability of the propeller planes was inferior to those winged creatures, it was almost impossible for those creatures to catch up with the propeller planes at full speed.

However, Torch seemed to understand this as well. He didn’t tangle with the Alliance planes in the sky but headed straight for the ground military base, especially the airfield!

If they took the airfield, the Alliance planes would have no way to resupply. They’d have to return to the Steel Heart or land somewhere in the wasteland.

The vast wasteland was awakened along with "Heaven" and its subordinate entities.

Even though their individual combat power was weak, even the Claw of Death couldn’t withstand the entanglement of their huge numbers.

The aerial defense line was quickly breached, and the center of the battlefield shifted from the sky to the ground.

Facing the descending monsters, the military base’s anti-air positions were forced to cease fire.

The soldiers had to grab their rifles and engage in close combat with the beasts that had fangs, wings, and claws.

For those targets close to friendly units, the circling planes couldn’t fully support and could only focus on the targets that had not yet landed.

As the battle raged on, not only were the anti-air positions and the airfield affected; even the machine gun positions on the perimeter of the military base were drawn into the fray.

Sitting in the cockpit of the Thunder Fighter, Falling Feather wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead.

He had spent all four ground-targeting TV missiles, with only 300 rounds left for the machine gun.

Even though he had nearly killed a hundred batwing people, it had little effect on the current situation.

Unless—

He eliminated all those wearing bio power armor!

He clearly remembered the data from the official website; these batwing people were nurtured from the young of mutants. Due to their rapid growth rate, they hadn’t developed a complete set of minds, much like those "Goblins."

They were even more chaotic than goblins, needing the Mind Interference Module to be commanded.

Alliance Biology Research Institute had tried to crack the control signal of their mind interference but unfortunately had not succeeded.

This technology was like a singularity for both Torch and the Alliance, and the ethical boundaries and methods of usage were still being explored.

Given that Torch had fewer scruples about the application and experimentation of this technology and had been researching it for over a decade, it was hard to tell whose technological prowess was superior.

However, one thing was certain—destroying the "communication node" of biological power armor would immediately turn these winged monsters into leaderless flies, reverting from coordinated cannon fodder back to disorganized wild beasts.

Beasts were not to be feared, just like the common Variants on the wasteland; even in large numbers, they were just moving experience points.

At least, that was so for the players.

But then Falling Feather faced a dilemma.

The area was full of mist, making it tough enough just to shoot down those batwing people, let alone identify those in biological power armor.

Those people were clever and hadn’t thrown all the cannon fodder at the military base but had left a considerable number to tangle with the allied forces’ planes, thus covering those hidden among them.

What was even more critical was that this time was different from the last; there might be more than one set of biological power armor mixed in.

Just then, a voice that had been silent for a long time suddenly came through the communication channel.

"Yi Wu! (I’m ready!)"

Falling Feather was startled, then replied with joy.

"Have you sorted it out on your end? That’s great! How do you feel?"

"Yi Wu..."

Xiaoyu seemed to be feeling somewhat complex, and Falling Feather couldn’t understand what it was saying for a moment.

Such a situation also wasn’t rare.

In a sense, its voice was an expression of emotions, and when it couldn’t describe the feeling itself, it was natural that others wouldn’t understand either.

Even he was the same.

"Stomach upset?"

"Yi Wu. (No, but it’s a pity... those people, they are quite interesting too.)"

Those people?

Was it referring to those wearing gas masks?

Falling Feather remembered that Xiaoyu had complained to him before about how boring those people were but had now suddenly changed its view of them.

He had a vague guess about what had happened and swallowed nervously.

As he was pondering how to comfort Xiaoyu, the little one suddenly perked up.

"Yi Wu...Wu? (The battle isn’t over, I won’t let their sacrifices be in vain... Is there anything I can help with?)"

Now was not the time for casual chat.

Hearing the determination in that voice, Falling Feather didn’t hesitate and immediately asked.

"Can you sense those spores around you? The spores from Nago mycelium!"

"Yi Wu! (I can!)"

Falling Feather was overjoyed and quickly followed up.

"Can you find where their lair is? Or the core that controls them or something similar?"

His phrasing was abstract, but he believed Xiaoyu would understand. After all, voice was just a carrier of information, and, on the surface, they communicated with language, but in reality, they communicated through thoughts.

Xiaoyu: "Yee-wooh... (I can’t detect its presence.)"

Hearing this, Falling Feather suddenly remembered that the fourth phase of Heaven apparently didn’t require a lair to exist, which was also claimed by Torch as an irreversible final stage.

At that moment, another thought suddenly burst into his mind.

"What if we use the lair on Blood Mountain to produce some fruiting bodies, and with those fruiting bodies as nurseries, cultivate the Type B Nago fungus strain? Would that work?"

Though the lair on Blood Mountain had no experience in synthesizing fruiting bodies, the lair in Qingquan City did store a vast number of fruiting body "blueprints."

Even Mutants, belonging to a different species, could serve as nurseries for producing spores. It only made sense that Eaters, naturally capable of dispersing spores, could also serve as nurseries.

They just needed to find a way to insert the gene segments of the Type B Nago fungus strain into the body of an Eater.

And the ability to "borrow space for spore production" was stored in the lair named after Alpha on Blood Mountain.

That guy had been researching this technique for nearly a hundred years and could even alter Mutants into a variety of unique shapes without any repetition.

Falling Feather clenched his fists and prayed inwardly.

Xiaoyu was silent for a while, seemingly pondering the feasibility, or perhaps making some kind of attempt.

After a moment, it gave a definitive answer.

"Yee-wooh! (I just tried it a bit, and it can be done.)"

Hearing that voice, which sounded as sweet as the singing of angels, Falling Feather’s face immediately displayed a joyful expression. He almost wished he could pick up this creature and kiss it... if only he weren’t on a plane.

The Type B fungus strain inhibited the growth activities of the Torch-improved Type J fungus strain, and the spores produced by the former similarly affected the latter.

In other words, Eaters carrying the Type B fungus strain would be the direct bane of puppets controlled by the Type J Nago fungus strain!

They would root out Heaven in the Weifu wilderness from the source!

Let those endlessly emerging filth fully lie down!

"Quick! Produce more!" Without a hint of hesitation, he shouted into the communication channel.

And from the other end of the communication channel came a reply full of enthusiasm.

"Yee-wooh! (Received!)"

...

At the same time, deep within Blood Mountain, at the altar, a dense red mist was rising from the bottomless abyss.

Standing next to the pit, Debt Giant Eye stared blankly at the red mist.

So did the other players nearby, including the one whose head he had pressed earlier—they all looked on blankly.

"I might as well have gone down..." Debt Giant Eye muttered with a hint of regret.

If only he had brought a bit more along.

Not twenty, but one hundred and twenty; perhaps those people wouldn’t have had to sacrifice themselves...

Although he had grown fond of those fruiting bodies, he knew clearly they were just Xiaoyu’s dandruff, with no will of their own. They’d never viewed him as a father or anything but merely consumed what he provided.

Yet those guys were genuinely alive... even if they were just AIs running on servers.

Edge Shoveling placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

"We should go... At least, we need to bring their things back, give them to their families."

To take down this location, almost all of the thousand-strong squadron had been wiped out.

Including them, who had come as reinforcements, they had left behind a thousand corpses, almost filling the entire passage with bodies.

This victory was bitterly costly...

Debt Giant Eye nodded, taking one last look at that deep pit, ready to leave this place.

However, just then, the deep red mist suddenly stirred, and something clambered out of the pit.

He was briefly startled, a flicker of joy suddenly burgeoning in his heart.

Could it be...

But before that flicker of fortunate joy could reach his face, as his eyes met those of the creature, his mood plunged into the abyss along with the ensuing disappointment.

No miracle had occurred.

It was a group of "Crawlers."

Some carried a few "Eaters" or other types of fruiting bodies on their backs.

But none of the faces was familiar.

"Only we are immortal... It has been so since the servers started up," said Edge Shoveling slowly standing next to him.

Though they had known each other only a short while, he admitted she was a brave one.

"...I’ve known for a while. I didn’t just get my helmet today, no need to remind me," Debt Giant Eye grumbled.

Edge Shoveling nodded in understanding, not pursuing this weighty topic further, patting her good friend’s shoulder.

"...It’s time to move on."

Debt Giant Eye didn’t speak, just silently nodded and then followed behind him.

The battle outside hadn’t ended; Springs and the others were likely still fiercely engaging Torch.

There were still many things to be done.

They needed to leave some people to hold this location, while also splitting off some troops to reinforce the allied forces at the Weifu military base.

If the Manager needed them...

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